This is the first in a series on Strategic Hope - the methodology at the heart of The Purpose Company. It starts with a crucible moment, a speech by Michelle Obama, and a question that changed everything: what actually is hope?
In the summer of 2024, I spent months working to elect a government I believed would advance the values I'd held since my first trip to Kenya at twenty-one - the Sustainable Development Goals, climate resilience, international development. I'd planned to get involved with the party's work on international development and on women and girls. I believed we were building something that would make a genuine difference.
When that new government turned out to be misaligned with those values - cutting aid budgets, underfunding climate resilience, stepping back from the commitments I'd campaigned for - I had what the author of True North, Bill George, calls a crucible moment. What was all that work for? The pathway I'd expected to pursue my purpose through had closed. The organisation I'd invested in was heading somewhere very different from where I'd believed it was going. I lost a core part of my purpose.
If you've ever poured yourself into something you believed in and then watched it become something you didn't recognise, you'll know what that feels like. It's not disappointment. It's deeper than that. It's the sense that the ground you were standing on has shifted, and you're not sure where to put your feet.
What I needed was a hope-centred strategy.
It was during that crucible moment that I heard Michelle Obama speak at the Democratic National Convention. "Hope is making a comeback," she said. I was feeling very low in hope myself. And I found myself asking a question that would change everything: what actually is this hope that the Obamas talk about? Is it just a word politicians use, or is there something harder, more functional underneath?
What I Found
That question led me to Hope Theory - and to the work of C. R. Snyder, a psychologist at the University of Kansas who had spent the last fifteen years of his career studying hope. Snyder was a pioneer of positive psychology, and by all accounts a man who strongly disliked fuzzy thinking. Vague, unfalsifiable concepts frustrated him. So when he turned his attention to hope, he did something radical: he stripped away the emotional, mystical definitions - hope as a feeling, as wishful thinking, as something you either have or you don't - and redefined it as an active, measurable, and trainable cognitive skill.
Hope Theory has three components. Goals - a clear vision of what you're working toward, grounded in something that genuinely matters. The ability to find different ways forward when the route you expected is blocked - what Snyder called pathways thinking. And agency - the belief, built through evidence rather than encouragement, that your efforts will lead somewhere meaningful.
Not a feeling. A way of thinking. And one that can be learned, practised, and developed - even in the most difficult circumstances.
I finally understood what Michelle and Barack Obama meant when they talked about hope. They were referring to a cognitive framework - a way of thinking that explains why some people move forward through difficulty while others stall. And it was precise enough to be useful.
What I Recognised
As I read Snyder's research, something extraordinary happened. I recognised the exact cognitive mechanics I had instinctively used years earlier, when I stepped into my first CEO role and found a struggling organisation that couldn't deliver on its mission.
I had cleared my diary and gone to the public library - because that's what was available to me - to map out a new future on paper. I had captured a vision and sold it to my team. I had found ways forward when every route seemed blocked and the odds were stacked against us - rebuilding the finances, developing the team, forging the relationships with stakeholders that should have been there from the start. And I had rebuilt my own confidence through the accumulation of evidence: each decision that worked, each quarter where the numbers improved, each team member who stepped up.
I had been practising hope-centred strategy without knowing it had a name. Goals, pathways, agency - the framework Snyder had spent decades documenting was the same framework I had built instinctively during the most challenging period of my professional life. We trebled revenue and employees within three years, earned Investors in People accreditation, and delivered on the mission - all while staying true to the values that guided every decision.
What I Tested
I tested Snyder's framework on my own situation. The crucible moment hadn't destroyed my purpose - it had disrupted the pathway I'd expected to pursue it through. The purpose was intact. What I needed were new ways forward and the confidence that my efforts would lead somewhere meaningful.
The framework worked. And it worked not as theory but as a hope-centred strategy - a way of thinking through the disruption that gave me clarity about what to do next.
What struck me most was how it operates as a flywheel. Success along one pathway builds agency and confidence. That strengthened confidence deepens your commitment to your goals. With stronger commitment, you start to see new pathways — and because you've already seen what works, you believe you can make a success of these too. And so it goes on. The effects compound. Each cycle strengthens the next.
The Purpose Company is the direct result of that flywheel in action. Hope Theory showed me the way: when one pathway closes, the purpose doesn't change. You find new ways forward.
What I Saw in My Clients
Once I understood the flywheel, I started looking at my clients through the same lens — and what I saw changed how I thought about everything.
Some of the founders I work with are naturally high in hope. They come to me because they've got as far as they can on their own and they're looking for CEO-level thinking and experience to open up pathways they can't see. Others have hit a plateau, lost confidence, or are stuck in ways they can't quite explain. The business challenges are often the same - brand positioning, understanding their target market, marketing strategy, financials, team. What differs is hope.
That observation raised a question I couldn't let go of: what would it take to move a founder from low hope to high hope? And what would it mean for their business if I could?
Those questions led me somewhere I hadn't expected - into the relationship between hope and business, between hope and leadership, and eventually into the methodology I now call Strategic Hope.
There is much more to this than I can share in a single piece. This is the first in a series - the origin story, how I discovered Hope Theory and saw it at work in my own life. The next piece explores what happened when I started applying it to the founders and leaders I work with - and what I found.
This is Part 1 of the Strategic Hope Series. Explore the other pieces in the series:
Who Am I Meant to Be? How Purpose Sits at the Heart of Strategic Hope
Strategic Hope: What the Authority Gap Does to Purpose-Led Founders
Further Resources
C. R. Snyder, The Psychology of Hope: You Can Get There from Here (1994)
Shane J. Lopez, Making Hope Happen: Create the Future You Want for Yourself and Others (2013)
Gallup, Global Leadership Report: What Followers Want (2025)
I work with purpose-led founders and leaders at every stage of growth. If this piece has resonated - and you'd like to explore what hope-centred strategy looks like for your business - I'd welcome a conversation.
I work with purpose-led founders and leaders at every stage of growth. If this piece has sparked something - and you'd like to think about what it means for your business, I'd welcome a conversation.
